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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29783133">La Petit Mort</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashesashesshackles/pseuds/ashesashesshackles'>ashesashesshackles</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Canonical Character Death, F/M, Past Character Death, Past Relationship(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 02:33:56</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>307</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29783133</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashesashesshackles/pseuds/ashesashesshackles</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>She supposed they were an anticlimax. A george/angelina post war freeverse.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Angelina Johnson/Fred Weasley, Angelina Johnson/George Weasley</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>La Petit Mort</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>she supposed she died with that man</span>
</p><p>
  <span>in the Second Wizarding War.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>her life now an extended joke without its punchline,</span>
</p><p>
  <span>she was going through its motions like puppet on strings,</span>
</p><p>
  <span>a mute screaming somewhere within her chest</span>
</p><p>
  <span>that she tried to comprehend.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>her face had turned all angles and hard planes,</span>
</p><p>
  <span>her eyes were shadowed under.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>she isn't beautiful like she was when she meets him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>but it does not seem to matter</span>
</p><p>
  <span>when she sees the same hollow, deadened look in him,</span>
</p><p>
  <span>smells the whiskey in his breath when she kisses him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>he wears the face of that man who died,</span>
</p><p>
  <span>holding dearly onto his mask of mirth to hide.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>and she supposes this is how she feels alive,</span>
</p><p>
  <span>ignoring their subtle differences,</span>
</p><p>
  <span>having innuendo filled conversations and mock serenades.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>she supposes it is easier on the gnawing guilt to know</span>
</p><p>
  <span>that she wasn't the only one trying to recreate</span>
</p><p>
  <span>the life of that dead man.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>so it all ends like this,</span>
</p><p>
  <span>on a soft bed with furious pounding within her,</span>
</p><p>
  <span>after an extended foreplay of words and bodies.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>and she supposes it is an anticlimax.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>like death, jagged and abrupt,</span>
</p><p>
  <span>after you have lived so long and tried so hard.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>the accompanying suffocation was like drowning underwater,</span>
</p><p>
  <span>the screaming in her chest grows louder,</span>
</p><p>
  <span>the whistling in her ears gets sharper.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>she gasps as if she broke the surface of the water,</span>
</p><p>
  <span>and breathes as if its her first breath when he rolls off her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>the suffocation gone,</span>
</p><p>
  <span>her hearts beats with euphoria, relief and shame.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>she supposes they both are wrestling</span>
</p><p>
  <span>with their sense of incompleteness,</span>
</p><p>
  <span>lying on his bed on that Sunday afternoon.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>but when he seeks her hand to hold,</span>
</p><p>
  <span>her eyes fill with hot tears,</span>
</p><p>
  <span>she seeks his chest to cry on.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>they are finally,</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>just</span>
  </em>
  <span> George and just Angelina.</span>
</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Here is a look into a relationship JKR had offhandedly mentioned as "probably unhealthy". La Petite Mort = French for "little death", euphemism for orgasm.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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